Hero Heroine
by chocolatequeen
Summary: In a world on the brink of alien invasion, Earth's two greatest protectors are flatmates... but they don't know it. Filling a Tumblr prompt for Rose/10, flatmates, superheroes.
1. Chapter 1

Rose's last two flat mates had been absolute disasters. Shireen always pestered her to go out dancing, no matter how many times Rose told her she was busy. When her best mate finally asked what Rose did all night then, Rose decided it was time to move on.

And Mickey… well, they hadn't had any business turning their friendship into something more in the first place. Maybe if the accident hadn't happened, they might have been good together, but it had, and Rose wasn't the girl he'd known in school. Still, she hadn't expected the unattractive jealous streak sparked by her odd hours and secretive nature.

So here she was, scanning room letting sites again, hoping to find someone who wouldn't ask too many questions—including why an heiress worth millions of pounds didn't just buy her own flat. Rose shuddered at the idea of living alone and clicked on another listing.

The room in Greenwich sounded just like all the others, with the fully-fitted kitchen and private en suite and all the estate agent buzz words designed to catch the eye. Rose almost clicked away, but then she saw the magic words: "Must be comfortable with a flat mate who comes and goes at odd hours. I often work late into the night, not getting home till early morning."

She clicked the "contact user" button and sent off an email asking if the room was still available, then she turned off her computer and started to pack. She had a good feeling about this.

Her phone buzzed only ten minutes later, announcing a new email. _Hello, Rose Tyler. Oh, I like how that sounds. Rose Tyler. Anyway, I'm John Smith, and you answered my advert today. Yes, the room is still open. We could meet tomorrow if you like—say 2:00 at Costa?_

_John Smith_

DWDWDWDW

Rose tapped a nervous rhythm out on the side of her coffee cup. Costa's front door opened and she looked up, but the young mother was certainly not John Smith.

She yawned and drained the rest of her latte, grimacing as the bitter dregs passed her tongue. London's criminals rarely scheduled their misdeeds to her convenience, and last night had been no exception. It had been almost 6:00 am before she'd been able to shove her mask into her drawer and crawl into bed.

The door chimed again, and this time the new arrival was a fit looking bloke with the most amazing hair she'd ever seen. His eyes scanned the cafe, and Rose raised her hand in a half wave, expecting (and hoping) this was her potential flat mate.

His face broke into a wide, relieved grin and he made his way around the tables to stand in front of her. "Rose Tyler, I presume," he said pompously, then grinned at her. "Rose Tyler," he repeated, stretching out the o in Rose and ending Tyler with a slight lilt to his voice.

"Still like the way my name sounds?" she teased.

"Oh yes!" He bounced on the balls of his feet. "Now, Miss Tyler, I see you've already had a coffee while you were waiting for me. Can I get you a treat for making you wait?"

Rose was ready to sign the lease sight unseen. Gorgeous, and charming to boot. "Could murder a cuppa," she told him.

John got in line and Rose took advantage of his momentary absence to clear her head and organise the questions she wanted to ask. When he reappeared with a tray bearing two pots of tea, she automatically poured a healthy amount of milk into her cup and watched with growing amusement as he dropped one, two, three, four lumps of sugar into his.

"Like you have room to talk," he said, apparently spotting her smile. "Are you sure you'll even be able to taste the tea with all that milk?"

Rose raised an eyebrow. "At least I won't go into a sugar coma," she retorted calmly. She gave the pot a quick stir and then poured her tea. "The flat sounds lovely, but I have a few questions."

John leaned back in his seat and tilted his head back slightly, smiling down at her through half closed eyes. "Fire away, Rose Tyler."

The long line of his neck distracted her for a minute, but she managed to tear her eyes away from his Adam's apple before he noticed. "Well, it's one question mostly. Well, two. First, the rent—does that include everything, or are utilities extra?" She could afford it either way, but her financial advisors had hammered on about the importance of knowing the details before she signed anything.

"That's all-inclusive. I actually…" John rubbed absently at the back of his neck. "I own the flat, to be honest." A beat passed. When he realised she wasn't going to ask the obvious question, he relaxed a little. "What's your second question?"

"You said your work schedule is variable, so… I assume you wouldn't mind a flat mate who's also out odd hours?"

His answering smile took her breath away. "That would actually be perfect. My last flat mate couldn't quite understand why I was in and out at different times."

"What do you do anyway?"

"Research astrophysicist. So I'm out at night, looking at the stars."

"And your flat mate…"

John cleared his throat. "Jack liked to… entertain. Never knowing when I'd get home cramped his style."

Rose grinned. "My mate Shireen said the same thing."

"Well Rose Tyler, what do you do for a living?"

Rose flinched. It had been five years, but she'd assumed… "I sorta thought you'd put it together," she commented. "It was all over the news."

She felt John staring at her and heard the swift intake of breath when he pieced it together. "Rose Tyler. Pete Tyler's daughter. The Vitex heiress. Parents died in a car accident six years ago, leaving you alone."

"I still have… the thought of being all alone in a flat…" Rose swallowed.

To her surprise, John reached across the table and wrapped his long fingers around her hand. "Let's get you moved in as soon as possible then."


	2. Chapter 2

John blinked against the daylight, unsure what had pulled him from the first sleep he'd gotten in three days. He lay still in bed and paid attention to the sounds in his flat—the low buzz of the refrigerator running, the ever-present hum of traffic, and—

There it was again. He swung out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown on the way to Rose's room. He'd become too familiar with the sound of Rose crying in her sleep in the three months since she'd moved in. He stood at the door for a few minutes to see if she'd pull herself out of it today, like she did most nights.

When Rose's thrashing became more pronounced, John pushed off from the door frame and crouched down beside her bed. He carefully placed a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. "Rose, wake up. You're safe. The accident is over." From the few mumbled phrases he'd picked up on other nights, he figured her nightmares were mostly filled with reliving the accident that had taken her parents, which was to be expected.

Tonight, his reassurances didn't seem to breaking through her distress. He shook again, a little more insistently. "Rose, it's all over. You're not there anymore; you can wake up."

Her eyelids flew open, and the panic he saw in her whiskey coloured eyes had John taking an instinctive step back. Her arm swung out a second later and barely missed his jaw. "Calm down, Rose," he said, keeping his voice low and even. "You're safe."

Rose blinked twice, then closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. "Sorry, John."

"It's fine. You know I have nightmares too." She nodded, but didn't open her eyes. "Right, I'll just… You know what? Come on. Let me make you breakfast."

He left her room without giving her an opportunity to argue. He'd learned within a week of Rose moving in how much she hated others to see what she perceived as weaknesses, which struck him as crazy since Rose Tyler was one of the strongest women he'd ever met.

"Even strong people need a friend to lean on," he'd told her after her first nightmare. He was aware of the hypocrisy, but as long as it convinced Rose to let him be her friend, he'd live with that uncomfortable realisation.

The early evening sunlight streamed in through the kitchen windows while John bustled around, pulling out everything needed for a full English. He was still peeling potatoes when Rose joined him in the kitchen, hair pulled up in a pony tail and a pink dressing gown wrapped around her waist. She washed her hands and started slicing the tomatoes, and between the two of them, they had the meal ready in a half hour.

"Are you working tonight?" Rose asked she she scraped butter over her toast.

John considered his two jobs. He wasn't needed at the observatory tonight, but it had been two days since the Doctor had patrolled London. Luckily, Bad Wolf's help meant London was in good hands when he was in the middle of a research project, but he should probably go out again.

"For a bit."

DWDWDWDW

John took off while Rose was in the shower. The leaving and coming home were the two tricky parts of having a flatmate, and it was just easier if he could avoid any questions as he walked out the door.

One street down from the flat, he ducked into an alley where he quickly donned the Doctor's costume. The pinstriped suit was unconventional, as far as superhero costumes went, but he'd adamantly refused all of Jack's attempts to put him in spandex. In the end, the compromise was a tight suit that still allowed for full range of motion.

He grinned as he tied the laces on his Chucks. Jack had despaired of his style when he'd chosen them, but he thought they made the outfit edgy.

The mask was the final piece of the outfit, the one concession to superhero tropes he made. That was purely practical however—secret identities only stay secret if no one can tell who you are.

He put his street clothes in his backpack and tucked it safely away. Then, after making sure no one was watching, he climbed the walls of the building to reach the roof. As cliche as it sounded, it really was easier to keep an eye on the city from above.

As he scanned the streets below, his mind wandered to Rose. He hadn't been sure a new roommate was a good idea. Jack was his oldest friend, and he knew his secret. How could he possibly live with anyone else without putting his identity at risk?

But his cousin Donna had insisted he try. "You need someone," she'd told him, and as much as John hated to admit it, she was right. Left alone, his thoughts turned dark.

Not that anyone could blame him, of course. The sole survivor of the horrible fire that had taken his parents, John had lived the next two years...

Well, that was beside the point. The point was, he hadn't been certain about getting a new roommate-until he met Rose Tyler.

Two things about Rose had intrigued John from the moment they met: one, it was the first time in years that he hadn't automatically seen a timeline swirling around a person; and two, despite the lack of a timeline, he'd felt her slot into his like a jigsaw puzzle piece. She was a perfect fit.

Something tugged at his time senses now, pulling him out of his ruminating. He followed the strange sensation to the rear of a hospital, where he watched an old man in a motorised wheelchair diaper through the back door.

While he watched, he felt a telepathic brush from the Bad Wolf. It was their standard evening greeting—_I'm out, let me know if you need any help._

He hesitated for a moment, but something about this man was just wrong. _Meet me at Albion Hospital. There's something going on here._

DWDWDWDW

Once she was sure John was gone, Rose quickly finished getting dressed generic jeans and t-shirt combo she wore as the Bad Wolf. The costume had two advantages, as far as she saw it. First, since she wore a different shirt every time she went out, there wasn't a standard image villains could be on the look-out for.

Rose thought of the Doctor and smirked. His outfit certainly… _suited_ him, but it was pretty conspicuous. Who leaps around London rooftops in a pinstriped suit?

Oh yeah, the second advantage—since she wore the basic uniform of a young woman in her twenties, if she was ever in a situation where she thought she might be caught or found out, all she had to do was whip the mask off, and bingo! She was just Rose Tyler.

A quick stop in the alleyway near the flat and she had her mask tied around her face. She tipped her head back and reached for the Doctor. _I'm out. Let me know if you need any help._

Rose was halfway down the street when she heard his answer. _Meet me at Albion Hospital. There's something going on here._

She abruptly changed direction, heading for the back of the building so she could climb to the roof. Traversing the rooftops of London was much faster than staying on street level.

Less than ten minutes later, she dropped lightly onto the ground next to the Doctor. "What's going on?" she whispered.

He looked over at her, and she thought she saw his eyes widen behind his mask. "Are you sure about that shirt?"

Rose looked down at her new shirt, emblazoned with a Union Jack. "Too early to say," she said breezily. "I'm taking it out for a spin."

She saw his left eyebrow go up, but he let it drop and pointed to a van pulled up to the back door of the hospital. "About fifteen minutes ago, a man in a motorised wheelchair got out of that van and went into the hospital. I can't tell that he's got anything to do with the hospital, and there wasn't anyone at the door to meet him or let him in."

Rose surveyed the situation. From her standpoint, it didn't seem that unusual, but there must have been something for the Doctor to be drawn here in the first place.

"How did you find them?"

He pointed at his head and she nodded. _Time senses._

There were enough similarities in their powers for both the Bad Wolf and the Doctor to wonder if their origin stories were the same. Super strength, super speed, telepathy… and a unique relationship with time. Rose could manipulate time around an object or individual to eliminate it from existence. The Doctor could sense individual timelines, and fluctuations in time. He knew, somehow, what had happened, what would happen, and what must not happen. If he said something was wrong here, then he was probably right.

They sat together in silence for thirty minutes, waiting for something more to happen. Finally, their patience was rewarded. The doors opened and Rose saw the same man the Doctor had seen earlier: a wizened creature who looked like he was being kept on the edge of death by some miracle of modern medicine.

He held something in his lap, but Rose couldn't tell what it was. She itched to go down for a closer look, but when she started to move, the Doctor immediately clamped his hand over her arm.

Rose narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth to tell him off, but he shook his head violently. _Look again_, he told her, and Rose turned back to the van.

They hadn't considered that the old man might have accomplices, but now, she saw a strange looking robot rolling across the pavement toward him. The robot lifted a plungered arm to the side of the van, and a wheelchair access ramp dropped.

_What is that?_ Rose asked.

The Doctor shook his head. _I don't know, but I don't think we should stick around to find out. _

They quietly backed away from the hospital, not turning until they were certain they were out of earshot. "Okay," Rose said. "What's the plan?"

"First we need to find out what they took. Pay attention to the police reports over the next few days and see if you can learn anything."

"And then?"

"And then we'll figure out how to stop them."

DWDWDWDW

John wasn't home when Rose got in, and she was grateful for the moment of solitude. She sat on the edge of her bed and carefully raised her telepathic shields again. She lowered them at night so she could work with the Doctor as needed, but leaving them down all the time would make her an easy target.

She shook the fatalistic thoughts off and changed into her pyjamas. The appearance of this shadowy, new enemy had left her too wound up to sleep, so she settled onto the sofa and scanned through Netflix looking for something to watch.

She'd just picked a comedy when John's key turned in the lock. He looked more weary than usual when he came inside, and from the way he tossed his backpack in the corner and shuffled into the loo to wash his face and brush his teeth, she guessed it hadn't been a good night at work.

"Long night at the observatory?" she asked when he returned to the living room, dressed in a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms.

He rubbed wearily at the back of his neck and nodded. "Spent most of it arguing with the graduate assistants about the possibility of alien life."

Their shared belief in alien life was one of the things that had made it so easy for Rose to become friends with John in just a few short months. Of course, he didn't have quite the same reason to believe that she did…

Rose stroked absently at the IV scar on her elbow. "You'll convince them eventually," she said soothingly.

"Well at least I have you to talk to until they come around."

He sat down next to her on the sofa and plucked the remote from her loose fingers. "What're you watching tonight?" A press of the button woke the television up. "_Young Frankenstein_. Need to wind down?"

Rose snuggled back into the cushions. "Yeah. That okay?" In answer, John hit play and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I'm so sorry-I never intended to let this sit for 10 months! Things stopped me from getting to this project, but I have a solid outline for the last two chapters, so hopefully it'll be done by the end of April at the absolute latest. (I'm really hoping for the end of March.)

**Previously:**

They quietly backed away from the hospital, not turning until they were certain they were out of earshot. "Okay," Rose said. "What's the plan?"

"First we need to find out what they took. Pay attention to the police reports over the next few days and see if you can learn anything."

"And then?"

"And then we'll figure out how to stop them."

**Chapter 3**

None of John's regular sources knew anything about the break-in at Albion Hospital, but his time senses continued to nag at him, telling him something big was happening. He and Bad Wolf finally caught a break when a second break-in happened at Royal Hope Hospital, where one of his good friends happened to work.

John spent the rest of the week trying to think of a casual way to ask Martha for information on the theft, but when he met her and Jack at the pub on Friday, she brought it up herself.

"Work as been such a drag lately," she groaned as she drained her first pint. "They've gone crazy with extra security procedures—it takes me twenty minutes to clock out every night because they're checking everyone's bag!"

He leaned forward, resting his weight on his elbows. "Why're they doing that? Did someone nick something?"

She nodded. "Some stem cell tissue disappeared last week. I get that it's a big deal, but they've got no proof it was hospital staff that did it. None of our badges were used or anything."

"Stem cells?" John echoed through numb lips.

"That's kind of an unusual thing to steal, isn't it?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. Office gossip has been buzzing all week, trying to figure out what the point is." Martha's smile gleamed in the dimly lit pub. "My favourite theory is that someone is running an illegal genetics lab and needed more samples to experiment on."

The bottom fell out of John's stomach. He stood up quickly, nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling. Despite the fact that he'd only had one drink, he swayed on his feet for a moment.

"John?" Jack put his hand on his shoulder. "You all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," John said, the words coming in a rush. "There's been something going around at work though, and suddenly I don't feel great. I should go home."

"I'll walk with you," Jack offered. John nodded, and they both said their goodbyes.

Outside, John bent over and took a deep breath of the cool autumn air, hoping the churning feeling in his stomach would fade. When he thought he could stand up without being sick or passing out, he straightened and smiled wanly at Jack. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Jack's sharp blue eyes examined John. "So, is this about work, or…"

"Or," John said shortly as he turned down a quiet street and headed for home.

Jack followed along beside him. "And I'm guessing it's got something to do with that stolen tissue?"

Memories of timelines washed over John, making him dizzy. _It's happening. The Time War has started._

"Yeah. I just… I've got to get home so I can get changed and go find my partner. We've been trying to figure out what's going on for three weeks."

"Well hey, maybe if you go out, I can keep your gorgeous roommate company."

"Jack…" The image of Rose and Jack together did nothing for John's still-queasy stomach.

"Unless you're interested, Doc?"

"It's not that." John tugged on his ear. "But I like her too much to let her fall victim to the Harkness charm. Besides, I don't think Rose is a one night stand kind of girl."

A Cheshire cat grin spread across Jack's face. "All right, I get it. Hands off the blonde."

John groaned, but he didn't try to argue that he wasn't claiming Rose as his property. (And for the record, he never would, because if she found out about it, she would definitely kick his arse.) As long as Jack agreed not to toy with Rose, he could think whatever he wanted.

"Oh look, I'm home," he said, ignoring Jack's knowing chuckle. "Thanks again, Jack. I'll let you know how things go."

Rose wasn't home, and without needing to make any kind of excuses, John grabbed his bag and left immediately. Five minutes later, he was adjusting his tie and contacting Bad Wolf.

_I've found out what's getting stolen from the hospitals, and it's bad. Can we meet?_

_Yeah, 'course. I'm on my way to the Royal London—meet me there?_

_Sounds good. _John took to the roofs, running and leaping towards the river.

Bad Wolf was waiting for him on a roof with a good view of the hospital. "So, what did you find out?" she asked.

"Stem cells. They're stealing stem cell tissue."

Bad Wolf's eyes blinked behind her mask. "Okay… I'm not seeing how that's bad yet."

John sighed and sat down. "This is going to take a while," he said, pointing to the ground beside him. When she was sitting down, he said, "So… I know we've always been careful not to tell each other much personal information, but I can't explain without telling you how I became… this."

She nodded. "That's fine, Doctor. No more than necessary, that's what we always said, yeah?"

"Yeah." John drew in a breath. Hopefully Bad Wolf wouldn't think he'd gone round the bend when he told her the story. "So, when I was eighteen, I was abducted… by aliens." Out of the corner of his eye, John saw his partner stiffen, but he pressed on. "There was this scientist—Rassilon—from the planet Gallifrey. Gallifrey was at war with Skaro, and Rassilon's idea was—"

"To expose humans to the power of Time, either through the unfiltered power of the Vortex itself, or through the Untempered Schism."

John stared at Bad Wolf. He'd suspected, but hearing the trauma in her voice brought the truth home for him. He swallowed. "I was… I was made to look into the Untempered Schism," he told her. "What about you?"

Bad Wolf leaned back and looked up at the sky. Her voice was hollow when she started her story. "They had this… this chamber. Called it the heart of the Tardis. They locked me in there, and this panel in the wall opened an' the room filled with golden light. Oh, and music—the most beautiful music I've ever heard." She sighed. "I don't know how long I was in there, because the next thing I knew, I woke up in a bed in the infirmary. It was about a month later that I realised I could make Time do what I wanted."

John grabbed her hand impulsively. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His partner pulled her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest. Her withdrawal stung slightly, but John reminded himself that Bad Wolf had good reasons for wanting their relationship to remain strictly business.

"So what does Rassilon have to do with stolen stem cell tissue?" she asked.

John tapped his fingers against the ground. "Nothing, directly. But he didn't count on my ability to read timelines telling me more about the war. Once the Kaleds of Skaro caught wind of Rassilon's plan to build an army of Time Lords, they put their top scientist, Davros, in charge of creating soldiers equal to the Time Lords. I don't know everything—future details are always vague—but I do know Davros is a genetic engineer. And as soon as I heard about the stolen tissue, my senses just locked in place." John looked out into the night. "The Time War has begun."

Bad Wolf blew out a loud breath. "All right, this is bad," she agreed. "Especially if Rassilon finds out this Davros bloke is here—because you know he doesn't give a damn about what happens to the Earth if he can win the war."

John nodded. "We need to find Davros and take care of him before that happens."

Silence hung over the rooftop for several long moments as the two superheroes contemplated the coming battle. Eventually though the wind cut through the hoodie Rose wore over her t-shirt. She stood, her stiff muscles telling her they'd been sitting longer than she'd realised.

"I'm gonna go home, Doctor," she said, already dreaming about the cuppa she'd make as soon as she stepped through the door. "From now on, we'll patrol separately to cover more ground. When one of us finds Davros, they'll contact the other." She glared at the Doctor. "Do not approach him alone," she said forcefully. "If he's anything like Rassilon…"

The Doctor nodded. "And then we'll take care of them together. Good night, Bad Wolf."

Rose swung down to street level and unmasked at the first opportunity. She was tired and just wanted to catch a bus home. It cut a few minutes off her travel time, and the bus was warm, leaving Rose slightly less chilled than she had been earlier.

Thankfully, John was still gone when she got home. She quickly replaced her costume with flannel pyjamas and fuzzy slippers, sighing when the soft cloth brushed against her skin.

The front door opened as she padded into the kitchen, and one look at her flatmate's drawn expression had her offering, "Tea?"

John nodded and dropped his bag onto the floor. "Ta," he mumbled.

Rose watched him collapse onto the couch as she filled the kettle. There was something about the way he scrubbed at his face that tugged at her heart. "Bad day at work?"

"One of the worst," he groaned.

The kettle clicked off and Rose poured water into the waiting mugs. "Can you tell me about it?" she asked tentatively.

John sighed and let his head flop back against the couch. "I can't," he told her. "I wish I could… God, you have no idea how much I wish I could talk about it right now… But it's sensitive information."

Rose fixed their tea and handed John his. The appreciative sigh when he took the first sip brought a smile to her lips. Impulsively, wanting to make him feel better, she stood behind him and combed her hand through his hair. He hummed softly, then moaned when she scraped her nails over his scalp.

"That feels brilliant," he said after a moment.

Rose bit her lip and considered, then pulled her hand way. John whined in displeasure, but when she sat down beside him and put a pillow in her lap, he brightened. "You are fantastic, Rose," he said as he settled his head on the pillow.

She'd never tell John, and if anyone asked, she'd deny it to her grave, but the truth was she'd been dying to touch his hair for ages. It was gorgeous—soft and brown, and always styled to look like a cross between artfully tousled and just been shagged.

"Well, I hope you don't think this is a freebie, John Smith," Rose teased. "I'm taking an IOU—someday, you owe me a back massage."

"You name the time, Rose Tyler," John purred as she massaged his temples. "My hands are yours to command."

Rose felt her face heat up and she was glad John's eyes were closed. Her flatmate's propensity for accidental flirting—cos surely he didn't meant it—flustered her every time.

"I'll keep that in mind," she returned, letting a sultry note enter her voice.

John blinked and looked at her. "See that you do."

Rose's hand froze, and John pushed himself upright. "But listen to me, going on and letting your talented fingers soothe my horrible day," he said. "I haven't asked what's got you in your pjs, drinking tea at half five in the morning."

"Bad day at work, same as you." Rose sipped at her tea. "Some days I really wish I could just… walk away from the charity work," she said, referring to her cover story, the Tyler Foundation. "But I can't quit when so many people need me."

They were both quiet for a minute, then John took her cup and set it down on the coffee table. "It seems to me," he said as he stood up, "that what you really need is a good night's rest."

Rose looked at the hand he was holding out and considered. The Doctor's information had stirred up old memories that weren't likely to leave her alone if she slept. On the other hand, it had also wiped her out mentally and emotionally.

"Yeah, all right." She let him pull her to her feet, then impulsively wrapped her arms around his waist for a quick hug. "Night, John."

"Sleep tight, Rose."

oOoOoOoOo

"_Hello, John." _

_John looked up at the indistinct figure. His rich red velvet robe with gold brocade trim seemed garish in the stark white cell, and he had to blink a few times to take in the full effect. When he was able to focus on the hated face, he snarled. "Go to hell, Rassilon." _

_Rassilon gestured to someone in the hallway, and two more scientists carried in something that looked like a large, round mirror. "Today, John, you're going to look at something for me. Do you know what this is?" _

_John glared at him._

"_This is the Untempered Schism. It gives just the narrowest view of the Time Vortex."_

_The two scientists set down the portal, then grabbed John's arms and dragged him in front of it. _

"_Look into it, John. Tell me what you see." _

A cool hand on his forehead and a firm voice calling his name wrenched John from his sleep. His arm swung out, but the stranger hovering over his bed caught his fist easily and wouldn't let him go.

"John! John, it's me, Rose!"

The blonde woman had to repeat herself three times before he recognised her as his flatmate. Shame rolled over him when he realised he'd nearly hit his friend. He pushed himself upright and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"I'm sorry, Rose, I don't… I didn't…"

"John, how many times have I tried to hit you when you woke me up from a nightmare?"

John leaned back against his headboard. "I don't know."

"I don't either, but I know it was more than once." Rose paused, and John sneaked a glance at her through his eyelashes. She had her bottom lip between her teeth and an adorable furrow between her brows. "I was having trouble sleeping too," she said finally. "Everything at work yesterday reminded me of how I lost my parents, and I just… I'm afraid that if I close my eyes…"

"Yeah," John said, his voice hoarse. "That's… yeah, me too."

Rose shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Would it help… would you mind…"

Her gaze flicked over to the opposite side of the bed, and John cottoned on to what she was saying. "You maybe want to sleep in here, with me?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Could I? I just think… Maybe if we knew there was someone safe close by, the nightmares wouldn't be so bad."

"As long as you're okay with the risk that I might hit you in my sleep."

Rose rolled her eyes. "It's just as likely that I might hit you. But let's hope for a non-violent night, yeah?"

John flipped back the duvet. "Come on," he invited. "Just try not to steal all the covers."

Rose made a face at him as she walked around to the other side of the bed and got in. "You've never even slept with me and you've already decided I'm a cover thief?"

John turned off his lamp and laid back down. "Well, I guess I'll find out."

oOoOoOoOo

There was a warm weight resting on John's chest when he woke up. He lay still in bed, trying to recall everything that had happened the night before. When the weight shifted and he felt soft hair brush against his nose, he remembered—Rose.

Rose, who was a cuddler, not a cover hog. She'd been scooting closer to him in her sleep even before he'd fallen asleep. It shouldn't surprise him that he'd woken up with her actually in his arms.

What did surprise him was how loath he was to let her go.

But he was wide awake now, and that left him with no excuse to hold her. Additionally, he had a hunch that she would be mortified if she woke up and discovered she'd curled up next to him in her sleep. If he could sneak out of the bed without waking her up, he'd spare her that (unnecessary) embarrassment.

Rose slowly opened her eyes when she felt John shift out from underneath her and stand up. The sound of the shower was her cue to hustle out of the bed.

In her own room with the door shut behind her, she sank onto her bed and buried her face in her hands. Had she really done that? Suggested sharing a bed to the man she fancied the pants off of? And then woken up curled up against him? He didn't seem bothered when he woke up, but he hadn't signed up for a cuddle buddy.

She groaned—this was not good. Especially because she knew they had both slept better with the other in the bed than they had alone. It would be hard to find an excuse to avoid him from now on.

Rose flopped back onto her bed. Why did this have to be so difficult? She remembered John's screams from the night before, and some of her embarrassment faded. John said that his nightmares were about his family, but he hadn't once mentioned a fire.

A frown crossed her face. What was it that haunted his sleep?

After a moment, she sighed, stood up, and wrapped her dressing gown around her waist. When she pushed open her door, she could smell John's body wash and hear him singing in the shower.

_Well, at least he's in a better mood today, _she thought with some amusement.

Rose filled the kettle with enough water for both of them and poured herself a bowl of cold cereal. John appeared in the doorway with towel-damp hair just as the kettle went off, as she'd known he would.

"Good morning, Rose Tyler!" he chirped, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. "What do you have planned for the day?"

"Nothing," Rose mumbled, still not completely awake. "Maybe take a walk through the park—it's gorgeous out there."

"Indeed it is." The kettle clicked off and John poured water into the waiting mugs. "Would you mind if I came with you? I think we could both do with a relaxing day."

Rose nodded and took her tea from him. "Sure."

Walking with John beneath the warm October sun, Rose could almost forget about her other life. For the first time since she'd escaped Rassilon's captivity, she _wanted_ to forget about being Bad Wolf. Just for an afternoon, she wanted to be Rose Tyler.

So when John grinned mischievously and gathered a huge pile of yellow and red leaves, Rose grinned back and ran and jumped into them. When he took her hand and pulled her to her feet, Rose didn't let go, letting their joined hands swing between them as they continued through the park.

They explored for hours, only stopping when the sky above the western horizon turned pink. "I suppose it's time to be getting home," John said. At the edge of the park, he turned towards the bus stop, not really fancying a walk home, especially since the temperature was already dropping.

Rose followed, but he thought she looked a little… wistful, like she didn't want the day to end any more than he did.

"Yeah… I'm ready for dinner anyway," she said, glancing up at him.

John tilted his head as he pretended to consider. He was ninety percent certain she was hinting that she'd like to stop for dinner on the way home.

"Well… we could always get something, while we're out?" he half-asked, half-suggested.

Rose squeezed his hand. "That'd be nice, yeah."

"And I don't have to ask what you want," he teased her. "It's always chips with you."

"I eat other things," Rose protested.

John raised his eyebrows. "Right… shall we get curry then? Pizza? Kebabs?"

Rose let go of his hand to cross her arms over her chest and pout at him. "Just because I want chips today… that doesn't mean I never eat anything else," she grumbled.

"Of course not," John agreed, trying to hide the smirk that tickled the corners of his mouth. Judging by the glare she shot him, he didn't succeed. "Come on, there's a chippy around the corner."

"All right, but you'd better have your wallet with you this time."

John rolled his eyes at the reference to the first time they'd gone out to eat together. "Are you ever going to let me forget that?" he asked, letting a teasing whine enter his voice.

Rose smiled, and he valiantly tried to ignore the hint of tongue peeking through her teeth. "Nope!"

oOoOoOoOo

For the first time since he'd become the Doctor, John didn't look forward to putting on his mask for his evening patrol. The elevated stakes turned the adrenaline-filled fun of being a superhero into a duty performed with much nail-biting.

And in the end, the anxiety was for naught. With the exception of a few incidences of petty crime, there was nothing needing his attention in London. When he checked in with Bad Wolf on his way home, she confirmed that her night had gone the same.

On a whim, John sent Rose a quick text when he reached his alley. Her response made him smile, almost as much as the cuppa she had ready for him when he walked in the door.

"Thanks for this," he said as he traded his bag for the cup. "Tonight was brutal."

"What's going on at work right now that's making it so hard?"

John pushed his tongue against the back of his teeth. "Well… I've got a project I'm working on, and it's moving more slowly than I'd like. I can't really do anything else until I make some kind of headway there… and I know it'll have a huge impact on the rest of my work."

"So you're tired of waiting for the one piece that hasn't come yet?"

"More or less." He wanted to argue that it was more than impatience, but since he couldn't exactly tell his flatmate that the fate of the world might rest on whether he and Bad Wolf stopped the Daleks in time, he had to let it slide.

They finished their tea in silence, both too exhausted to chat. Rose stood up first and waved a tired goodnight to John. His chest tightened as he watched her disappear into her room; he'd hoped… well, he'd thought that maybe they could continue their sleeping arrangements from the previous night. But if Rose didn't want to… He heaved a sigh and took himself off to bed.

An hour later, her cries pulled him from his sleep, interrupting his own unpleasant dreams. He was in her room almost before he woke up fully, his unconscious mind recognising her voice and prodding him out of bed, still half asleep.

John's gut clenched when he looked down at Rose. Her tearstained face was twisted into a grimace, and he wished he could wipe away the memories as easily as he wiped away the tears.

He sat on the edge of her bed and took both her hands as a safety precaution. "Wake up, Rose," he called gently. Her moans softened and trailed off, and she tugged at her hands, but he held them tight. "Come on, wake up," he cajoled, and finally, her brown eyes opened.

She stared up at him for a moment, then sighed and sat up, her messy blonde hair falling down around shoulders left bare by the thin straps of her pink pyjama top. "My turn tonight, I suppose."

"Seems that way." John refrained from mentioned his own dreams. "So…" He tugged on his ear. "It seems there's only one way either of us is going to get a full night of sleep."

A light blush suffused Rose's face. "I suppose," she mumbled.

"Well, if sleeping with me is so unpleasant…" John teased, hiding the slight hurt he felt at her reluctance in a joke.

Rose's eyes opened wide. "It's not that!" she said on a rush. "It's just… I hate feeling like I can't handle this on my own."

Ah. He should have known. "Rose, it isn't just you," he reminded her for the dozenth time. "Come on, let's get to bed."

She looked at his hand, then up at him, then at her own bed.

"Oh no," John said, easily reading her thoughts. "Your bed is nice and soft, but mine is bigger." He waggled his fingers, and after rolling her eyes, Rose took his hand and got out of bed.

In his room, she walked around to the same side of the bed she'd slept on the night before. Try as he might, John couldn't ignore the intimacy of the situation—especially not after realising today that he was falling for her. She was lying on her side facing away from him, and he had to bite his tongue to hold back an invitation to curl up beside him like she had the night before.

_Come on, John, don't be a wanker,_ he counselled himself as he got into bed. _This is purely platonic bed-sharing, just so you can both sleep without nightmares. You will not try to put the moves on your emotionally vulnerable flatmate._

"Good night, Rose," he murmured as he switched off the bedside lamp.

"Sleep tight, John."

oOoOoOoOo

The next evening, Rose waited until John left for work to change into Bad Wolf's t-shirt and hoodie. It was easier now to get out of the flat without him seeing her than it had been in the first few months they'd lived together. Much as she hated seeing him tired and worn out, his increased workload had certainly come at a convenient time for her.

She checked the list of London hospitals as she left the flat, before putting her mask on. _Hmmm… Barts tonight, I think,_ she decided. It ranked high on the list of possible targets.

But she'd barely set out when the Doctor called for her. _I've found Daleks at London Bridge Hospital. _Rose changed direction just slightly, continuing west instead of crossing the river.

She could hear the Doctor before she could see him. "So what are you anyway? Rubbish bins with eyestalks? Pepper pots carrying a plunger? It's like someone built a robot with random bits purchased at a charity shop."

Rose rolled her eyes at the taunt. The Doctor's flippant attitude was going to get him killed one day. She peered around the corner, taking in the situation. The Doctor stood beside the familiar van, three Daleks pinning him there.

"We are the Daleks," the creature answered, its voice chillingly electronic. "We were created to be superior."

"At what? Scrubbing toilets?"

"Exterminate!" The Doctor rolled to the left, dodging the laser beam. "Surrender, Doc-tor," the Dalek ordered. "You have no means of escape."

_That's my cue._ Rose stepped out of the shadows. "Who needs escape when you've got a helping a hand?"

John felt the funny shiver in the air when she put the Daleks in a time bubble. "And that's my cue to leave," he said cheekily, saluting the frozen Daleks.

Bad Wolf had her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face when he turned around. "Fine, don't even say thank you—rude, you are."

"Rude and not ginger, that's me." She rolled her eyes, and he let some sincerity show on his face. "But thank you, Bad Wolf."

"You're welcome, Doctor." She glanced at the overgrown pepper pots behind him. "I can't keep them like that for much longer; we should go."

John gestured for her to lead the way, and he followed her out of the neighbourhood and up to a safe rooftop. When they were sitting on the gravel, she glared at him.

"Now, what were you thinking, approaching them by yourself? I thought we agreed that when we found the Daleks, we would call the other and wait until the arrived. They could have killed you, Doctor."

"Awww, Bad Wolf! Would you have been upset to lose me?" Her lips tightened, and he hastily back-pedalled. "I wasn't sure how long it would take you, and I thought I could confront the Daleks alone before Davros came out of the building. Which, I'd like to point out, I did."

"Oh yes, you did a brilliant job confronting the robots with death rays," Bad Wolf said sarcastically.

John rubbed at the back of his neck. "In my defence, I didn't know about the death rays at the time. I didn't want the one lead we'd found in a month to roll away without the chance of following it up."

"Well, did you learn anything from them?"

John clenched his jaw. "I did. Rassilon is here."

Even in the dim light, he could see Bad Wolf blanch. "Has it occurred to you… I mean, it seems likely that he'll try to recapture us," she stammered.

John froze. "They'll take us back over my dead body," he spat out.


End file.
